I Am An Illusion
by Beautiful Noise
Summary: Sequel to Another Beginning. An elaborate web of deceit is being woven around Anna Wayne, though she doesn't know it yet, and she isn't the only target. The Dark Knight might be able to save Anna, but who will rescue him?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Well, let's just say that if you recognize it, I don't own it. Except for Anna.**

**A/N: A sequel to Another Beginning. You don't need to have read that for this to make sense, but it'll be more fun if you have. This is just a little taste, a teaser. But there will be more to follow. Oh, and the individual in this chapter will be identified...eventually. Enjoy!**

_I'm the place where everything turns sour_ _- **Rob Thomas**_

The pieces were falling into place. Bruce Wayne's sudden reappearance had forced him to make some changes to his scheme, but this version of the plan was even better, more lucrative. He really should thank Mr. Wayne for making things much simpler.

Things would move faster this way, and be less complicated in the end. That an innocent young woman would pay the price was of no concern to him. She was just a means to an end, no matter how he chose to use her. He was already in place, within easy striking distance. Now he just had to bide his time, set up the dominoes just so, and then watch them fall.

Batman. There was the thorn in his side, the one thing that was completely unpredictable. One visit from that flying freak could wreck everything he had going. He would have to be very careful not to attract the Dark Knight's attention. Unless…

His mind was racing, thoughts and ideas coming so fast that he scarcely had time to register them. With careful preparation it just might be possible. He allowed himself to imagine for a moment what kind of connections and rewards he might gain if his plot were successful. How much would taking down the Batman be worth to Gotham's criminal overlords? To have their freedom of movement back, no one guarding the Narrows and the dark places of the city, no one to interrupt their transactions, or stop their thugs.

It was ambitious, and dangerous. But no risk, no reward. If he could combine the two plans, and make the execution of the original crime the bait for the bat. That would mean pushing the timeline back, but that wouldn't be difficult. He'd already had to alter it twice, and would probably have to do it again. Besides, it would be worth a lot of rearranging to pull this one off.

He leaned back in his chair and forced himself to calm down. Pushing aside the anticipation of the inevitable fame and fortune that he would stand to gain, he slowly and rationally considered the idea. The careful scrutiny revealed a few minor problems, but as a whole it didn't seem farfetched. This was going to make for a much bigger operation than he had initially planned for; extra hands would be needed. He could get more help, and the original location he had planned to use would work beautifully for this new spark of genius. A few more gadgets, and some heavier weaponry would also be necessary.

A sinister smile crept across his handsome face as he contemplated the spectacular idea. Batman would never be able to resist an innocent person in peril, though the fact that she was an heiress wouldn't matter to such a do-gooder. The bat would swoop in to rescue the damsel in distress and fly right into the trap. It was almost comical, how easy it would be to lure the caped crusader to the web. Keeping him there would be the tricky part. Difficult, but far from impossible. Underneath the mask was a man, and as courageous as the man might be, he could be broken.

**-Well, what do you think? Looking forward to more? Let me know, please review! They are fuel for the fire of my imagination.**


	2. Ways and Means

**Disclaimer: It's not mine, it never was, and sadly never will be. I own Anna, and that's it.**

**A/N: Sorry it's taken so long! Life has been very hectic these past few weeks, and I just have been able to finish this section. Hope you like it!**

Towing her large, wheeled suitcase behind her, Anna Wayne stepped out of Gotham City International Airport and hailed a cab. When the driver asked her for an address she hesitated momentarily. Where was she going? Her home was gone, though she was still having a hard time grasping that. Seeing the impatient look on the cabbie's face, she quickly rattled off the address of one of Gotham's nicer hotels.

She knew that she would have to face Bruce sooner or later, but the later the better as far as she was concerned. All of the easing of old hurts, and any inclination to forgive Bruce for disappearing like he did had vanished in an instant when she'd found out about his drunken birthday escapades that had left their family home a pile of smoking rubble. The Gotham papers were readily available in London, and she had read them every day, seeing her brother living the life of a billionaire playboy, the fancy cars he was driving, the women he was escorting, and the ostentatious way he was choosing to live. She had managed to convince herself that what she was reading was just the media's version of events, their typical trick of twisting the ordinary into the spectacular so that they would sell more papers.

But now she realized that they must have been telling the truth for once, or at least giving the truth minimal embellishments. The problem was, this public image of Bruce just didn't reconcile with her memories of him, or with the way he had acted upon his return. He had changed while he was gone, that much had been obvious even in the short amount of time she had spent with him since he came back, but he hadn't seemed this drastically different. Again she found herself cursing the foul weather that had kept her from flying back in time for the ill-fated party. If she had been there, she just knew she could have prevented all of this.

The cab pulled up in front of the Gotham Hilton, and after paying the fare, Anna wrestled her suitcase out of the trunk, and headed inside. To her immense relief, she found one of her friends from high school on duty at the front desk. He didn't bat an eye at registering her under a fake name, and she knew that she could count on him to keep her presence at the hotel a secret. The last thing she wanted was for the press to catch wind of her return before she talked to Bruce.

Anna located her room, had the bell boy deposit her suitcase in the closet, tipped him and closed the door with a sigh of relief. Standing in the foyer of the suite, she glanced down at the evening edition paper that was lying on the small table. Picking it up, she wandered into the sitting area, perusing the front page in hopes of finding out something more about the attacks in the Narrows. The previous night's horror was indeed the front page headline, but there was a small blurb at the bottom about the fire at Wayne Manor, and against her better judgment, she found herself turning to page 5 to read the article. The reporter had evidently gone out to the Manor and viewed the destruction for himself, and his calm, cool description of what remained of Anna's family home hit her like a sucker punch. As she read the word for word recounting of the insulting speech her brother had given to their family's closest friends and business associates, she felt her anger at Bruce flare up again, and by the time she finished the article, she was furious once more. The spacious suite felt tiny and claustrophobic, and on an impulse she snatched up her coat and slammed the door behind her, heading down stairs and out onto the street.

Anna knew that taking a walk in downtown Gotham after dark was not a smart thing to do. But she was so mad that she didn't care. She just couldn't believe that Bruce had managed to alienate the whole of Gotham society and burn their family home to the ground in one drunken night. Had even thought about how this would affect her? How was she going to convince these people to donate to the charities that she oversaw for Wayne Enterprises after that offensive discourse Bruce had delivered? They probably wouldn't even answer the phone when she called. If he wanted to live like a ne'er do well, why couldn't he have done what every other playboy did? Drink too much, smash up an expensive car, and do some community service. On second thought, maybe that wasn't such a great option either.

She headed down the street, away from the hotel. It seemed that she couldn't assimilate new developments fast enough. Just as soon as she started to come to grips with one issue, another one jumped up and smacked her in the face. This one night of anonymity would give her some much needed time to breath, though right now she would have greatly preferred the opportunity to throttle her brother.

Anna sighed and scuffed her shoe along the pavement. She would have to call Bruce in the morning; he would probably be miffed that she hadn't called him right away when she arrived. At this point she didn't really care what Bruce thought.

Lost in thought, she didn't notice when the landscape surrounding her slipped from the fairly upscale area around the hotel to a far less desirable one. When she finally looked up and became aware of the increasingly dangerous path she was on, she immediately turned around and increased her pace.

It was already too late, though she didn't know it at the time. Her steps were being skillfully stalked long before she realized her error and reversed course. The predator watched as she traversed the sidewalks, admiring the fact that, though she had to be nervous, she held her head high and her stride was confident. That didn't change his plans, but it did make him smile.

Anna continued down the sidewalk, trying to look cool and collected, like she knew what she was doing. Not that would protect her necessarily, but it might deter a casual mugger.

Disaster struck as she passed a particularly dark and shabby alleyway. She had been sticking to the outside edge of the sidewalk, trying to stay in the pools of light shed by the street lamps. But as she approached this particular intersection, a disordered array of broken, long unused newspaper boxes took up the outer half of the path. Forced to either step into the street, or shift closer to the alley, she chose to remain on the walkway.

As she reached the middle of the forbidding opening, hands reached out and swiftly snatched her clean off of her feet. The scream that formed instantly never had a chance to materialize, due to the large, gloved hand that was immediately clamped over her mouth.

Shock immobilized her at first, but she recovered fairly quickly and started kicking. Unfortunately, her attacker was rather large, and she was decidedly petite. So her kicks didn't achieve as much as she had hoped they would. Aside from a few colorful remarks, and the growled threat that she would regret doing that, nothing changed.

The assailant carried her around a corner, and unceremoniously dumped her in a heap beside a foul smelling dumpster. Anna's head collided painfully with the rusted metal, and the resulting moments of wooziness made her miss what the thug was saying.

"…I'd say you won't get hurt, but I'm not in the mood to make any promises." The deep voice intoned. The ski mask that he was wearing covered everything but his eyes.

"I realize this must be a terrible imposition," the masked man continued in a mocking tone. "But we need bait to lure the beast, and bait is what you shall be."

"What do you mean I'm the 'bait'? Bait for who?" Anna asked as she rubbed her aching head, not really expecting an answer. She wasn't disappointed; the thug didn't even acknowledge her question. When she looked up, she realized that it wasn't a lack of interest on her attacker's part, but that the man was a bit indisposed at the moment. Actually, he was very indisposed, as he was currently being battered by a nearly invisible opponent.

From Anna's point of view, all she could see was a giant shadow that was gracefully and thoroughly beating the masked assailant. She wanted to run, but the brawl was blocking her only escape path. That left her with one option; to cower in this foul corner and hope that the scuffle didn't spill over onto her.

A sickening crack caught her attention just in time to see her would-be mugger drop to the ground unconscious.

Anna looked up, and saw the specter approach her, the dim light outlining a silhouette that was vaguely human, apart from what appeared to be horns on its head. She found herself involuntarily shrinking back in fear.

A gloved hand appeared from the folds of the wraith's cape. As she watched the hand reach toward her, Anna's shock fogged brain finally put two and two together. This was the Batman! He did exist!

"Are you alright?" A deep voice growled.

"Yes, I believe so," she said shakily. She took Batman's hand and stood. A quick inventory of her body confirmed her original opinion; aside from some dirt and a few bruises, she was fine.

"You really shouldn't be out here alone at this time of night," Batman reproached her. They made their way to the mouth of the alley, and she turned to face him, taking advantage of the faint light coming from the street to examine her rescuer.

A broad expanse of black clad chest was all she saw at first. Whoever he was, he was tall, and very muscular. _Well, that had to go with the territory_, she thought, _you couldn't exactly have Gilligan out here fighting Gotham's heavyweight thugs._

Raising her eyes, she met Batman's serious gaze. In the uncertain light, it was difficult to tell much, but she could see that his eyes were dark, brown or maybe hazel. That didn't help much.

Before she could get any further in her thinking, she was interrupted by that deep, rumbling voice.

"You should head back to your home," he instructed. Was it just her imagination, or had he hesitated over that last word? "I'll follow you at a distance and make sure you arrive safely."

The mention of being followed made her shiver, and Anna glanced over her shoulder at the shadowy street, then turned back to where Batman was standing. Or rather, where he _had_ been standing, for now there was nothing to prove he had ever been there.

After contemplating the now empty sidewalk for a moment, Anna moved on. It was a dark, but uneventful walk back to her hotel.

Once she was safely ensconced in her hotel room, she took off her coat and shoes and flopped down on the plush, king-sized bed to consider what had just happened. Within the tranquil confines of the hotel, she allowed herself to contemplate the danger she had been in. This was Gotham, and people didn't just get mugged, hand over their wallets and then continue on their merry way. No, here you found them when daylight returned. Found them dead in an alley, in a dumpster, in the middle of the street, it didn't matter, the location wasn't important. The point was that they were dead, always dead, or so close to it that the difference was irrelevant. She would have been one of those bodies, if it wasn't for Batman.

Batman. She had read the articles about him in the Gotham papers while she was in London. Gotham's savior, the Dark Knight, champion for justice or a vigilante, and a plague on an already beleaguered city, depending on who you asked. Personally, she was of the first opinion, especially now, but even before she had met the masked hero she had thought that what he was trying to accomplish was admirable. Insane, but commendable. Now she was one of the many that the caped crusader had saved. Would anyone believe her? Bruce might, but telling him about her encounter with Batman would entail explaining exactly why she had needed to be rescued in the first place. Which was not a good idea.

Sliding off the bed, she went to the large picture window and opened the curtains. The lights of Gotham sparkled on the other side of the glass, the beauty of the scene marred by several spots of darkness, scars from the previous night's chaos. Anna regarded the shadowed areas solemnly. She had read the stories the papers had presented, which had made it abundantly clear that no one had a clue what was going on. Thinking about the description of the unreasoning terror that had gripped the victims of the events made her shudder. Gotham was her home, and the interests of the city and her own family had been intertwined for generations. Watching Gotham suffer was painful to her too, even though she had not personally been affected by this disaster. She had spent a lot of time trying to help the less fortunate, trying to carry on what her parents had started all those years before, and she intended to continue doing so. It would be so much harder now, but she would find a way.

Thinking about other people's suffering helped her put her own pain in perspective. It was traumatic to lose your home, but at least she had the money to easily obtain another one. There was no danger of Anna Wayne winding up on the streets anytime soon, and that was more security than most of Gotham's citizens had. As long as she didn't take any more late night strolls, she should be safe.

Determined to maintain a more positive frame of mind, she got her pajamas out of the suitcase and headed into the bathroom. A nice hot shower, a good night's sleep, and hopefully she would be prepared to face the morning when it came.

**A/N: So, what do you think? A little bat action (with more to come, I promise), and a little mystery. Please review! Thanks!**


	3. Is It Any Wonder?

**Once again, I apologize profusely for the delay in updating. Now that my trip to Europe is done, and much fun had by all, I can concentrate on my story once more. That, and the writers block that I was struggling with has disappeared, and hopefully will not return. So a thousand apologies, and now, on with the story!**

* * *

Batman pulled the Tumbler back into the cave, thinking once again how thankful he was that the cave itself hadn't been damaged in the fire.

He jumped out of the vehicle and removed his mask and cowl. Crossing the cave, he opened the cabinet and began removing his uniform. Once everything was carefully put away, and he had his regular clothes back on, he sat for a moment and reviewed the evening's events. As Gotham's resident protector it had been all in a night's work. But as Bruce Wayne it had been frightening.

That scuffle in the alley had only caught his attention by chance. He hadn't realized it was Anna until he heard her voice. The resulting distraction had almost robbed him of his advantage of surprise, but he had managed to keep it together. The thug had fought hard, but had lacked the fighting abilities necessary to defeat Bruce.

What on earth had Anna been thinking, going out by herself after dark? For that matter, what was she doing in Gotham at all? She was supposed to call him when she got back.

He scrubbed his fingers through his dark hair, got up, and headed back to the gatekeeper's house. A few hours sleep, and then he had a meeting with the insurance investigators, something he was not looking forward to. After that, if he had time, he needed to go look for a house to rent. He fully intended to rebuild the Manor, as he had stated. But they had to live somewhere in the mean time, and the gatekeeper's house was a little cramped for 3 people. Especially when one of them had a secret as big as he did. As he walked he mulled over his sister's unannounced return to the city, and wondered how long it would take her to let him know that she was there. Hopefully not too long, there were things he needed to discuss with her.

It had occurred to him, more than once, that it was going to be hard to keep his nighttime activities a secret from Anna if they were living in the same house. It was possible, though unlikely, that she might want to get her own place while the rebuilding work was being done. If not, he was going to have some careful work to get in and out without her finding out.

He wanted to tell her, desperately. He knew what she must think of him right now. First his sudden reappearance with no explanation offered of where he had been for 7 years, then his ridiculously showy way of living since his return which had culminated, as far as Anna knew, in the destruction of their family home after a night of wanton boozing. Not to mention the fact that he had managed to completely insult almost everyone they knew. All of that added up to a very poor opinion of him, and rightfully so. Look at how Rachel had felt before she knew the truth.

There was a bright spot. He had told Rachel his secret, and the world hadn't come crashing down around them yet. Then again, it had only been a little over 24 hours since he had imparted that information to her. Maybe the disaster just hadn't had time to strike. Another niggling feeling of impending doom was that if Anna should somehow find out about his alter ego from someone other than him, though he couldn't think who that might be, she would never forgive him. All of the things that had taken place up until now he had faith she could eventually move past and forget about. But a deliberate betrayal would not be something she would not pardon lightly, if ever.

Reaching the gatekeeper's house, Bruce let himself in, and quietly shut the door behind him. He headed down the hall, and into the sitting room where he knew Alfred would be waiting for him, wanting to make sure that Bruce arrived home safely.

"Good morning Master Bruce," Alfred greeted him. The butler rose from the large wing chair he had been seated in, and offered Bruce a cup of tea, which the younger man accepted gratefully.

"Thanks Alfred," Bruce took a seat on the small loveseat, took a sip of his tea and closed his eyes. He was exhausted, even more so than usual. It had been a long night, coming so closely on the heels of his battle with Ra's Al-Ghul.

He must have looked as knackered as he felt, because Alfred spoke up from across the room, saying "Did you have a busy evening Master Bruce?"

Bruce opened his eyes and gave Alfred a faint smile. "You might say that," he replied. Alfred didn't ordinarily inquire about Bruce's nocturnal affairs, unless something unusual occurred. "I think the past couple of days are finally catching up to me," Bruce admitted. He drained his tea cup, and setting it on the coffee table, he stood and stretched. As he flexed his muscles, grimacing as sore spots made themselves known, he debated whether or not to tell Alfred about finding Anna tonight.

"I did have one especially interesting encounter," Bruce mentioned. He recounted the story of the assault in the alleyway and his subsequent dispatching of the thug.

Alfred listened to the story, and then said, "I expect she just need a little space. She might want to come out here and see the Manor for herself before she speaks to you. She'll call when she's ready."

Bruce considered this. He hadn't mentioned his feelings about Anna's slipping into town. But this wasn't the first time that Alfred had seemingly read his mind, he should be used to it by now. He nodded in acknowledgement and agreement. "I'm sure she will. Good night Alfred," he said.

"Good night sir," Alfred returned. He watched the younger man make his way tiredly up the steps and into the guest bedroom. Alfred harbored a secret fear that this beast that Bruce had created would consume him and the darkness would be all that was left of him. Bruce's perplexity over Anna's behaviour was a welcome sight. A flash of the "normal" side of him. If anyone could keep Bruce from disappearing into Batman, it would be Anna. That was assuming that Bruce intended to tell his sister about his secret. He would probably resist at first, but Alfred felt sure that Bruce would eventually tell Anna the truth.

Alfred got up and began clearing away the tea things. _It will be nice to have the family together again_, he thought, _it's been a long time.

* * *

_

"Thank you," Anna said to the barista. She took the cup of chai and happily inhaled the spiced steam that was wafting out of it. Pulling the hood of her coat up, she braced herself and headed out of the warm coffee shop and back into the raw February day.

She had put it off as long as possible. A decision had to be made. Was she going to call Bruce now or head out to the Manor and survey the damage for herself?

After a few moments of dithering, she glanced at her watch and made a decision. She had read about how Bruce retained the controlling shares of Wayne Enterprises, and a quote from him saying that he was planning on having a bigger share in running the business now. It was after 10; Bruce should be in the office by now. Moving quickly, before she could change her mind, she hailed a cab and gave the driver the address for Wayne Tower. Then she settled back and sipped her chai.

All too quickly they pulled up in front of the high-rise, and after paying the fare, she headed inside. She made a brief stop at her office to pick up a couple of things and then it was on to the showdown.

It only took her a few minutes to find out that Bruce was indeed at work today, and that he was most likely in his new office on the top floor. Anna climbed the few flights of stairs between her floor and the executive offices. She supposed she could have had an office up here, but she had never wanted one.

As she emerged from the stairwell, she saw Allison, a friend who worked in the charity department with her, sitting at the desk that Mr. Earl's assistant had formerly inhabited. Apparently Allison had gotten a promotion.

"Nice desk," Anna commented as she walked up.

Allison looked up, startled, and blushed. "Yes, it is," she replied in a soft Southern accent. "Are you here to see Dr. Fox?"

"Actually, I'm looking for my brother. Is he in his office?" Anna asked.

Allison nodded and said, "Yes he is. Shall I tell him you're here to see him?"

"No thank you, I'll just go on in," Anna replied. After learning which room Bruce was now occupying, she proceeded down the plush hallway, to the office that had formerly been her father's. Even though Dr. Wayne had never spent much time at Wayne Tower, a prime corner office had been set aside for him as befit his position as the owner of the empire. The space had remained empty since his death, and now it evidently belonged to Bruce.

She paused in front of the polished walnut door, gathering her wits, before raising her hand and knocking on the door. Hearing her brother's voice respond "Come in," she squared her shoulders and entered the room.

Bruce was writing something, and didn't look up when she came in. "Just put the papers in my box, please," he said.

"If you want to give some paper, I'll happily put it in your box," Anna retorted.

Bruce's head came up so fast that Anna though he might give himself whiplash. He hadn't really expected Anna to get in touch at all today, though he had hoped she would, but he certainly wasn't expecting her to show up here at the office. It took a few minutes for him to realize that he was staring at her with his mouth open. He collected himself, and stood up. "Anna! I'm glad you're back," he told her. And he meant it.

She nodded in acknowledgement, and closed the door behind her. She settled herself in a leather chair across the desk from Bruce. An uncomfortable silence descended.

Bruce finally spoke up. "Anna…I am so sorry. Things just got out of control."

Anna snorted. "That's quite an understatement," she bit off sarcastically.

Another silence stretched out, and again Bruce was the one to break it. "Did you just get into town?" He was curious about how she would answer that.

"Not too long ago" she replied. "Where are you staying?"

"At the gatekeeper's house with Alfred," he answered.

They exchanged a few more questions and answers before they ran out of semi-neutral conversational territory. Bruce wished that Anna would do something, scream at him, cry, anything but sitting there, looking so lost. Even knowing the truth about the events that had led to the Manor's destruction he was still guilty. If he hadn't come home this wouldn't have happened. And seeing how distraught his sister obviously was made him feel terrible.

A tear slipped down Anna's cheek and she crossly scrubbed it away. She was mad at Bruce; she _wanted _to be mad at Bruce. She had walked into Wayne Tower bubbling over with fury. But now she couldn't find enough anger within herself to confront Bruce like she wanted to. Or thought she wanted to. Sitting here in this room, thinking of the parents she had never known, and the home she no longer had, suddenly all she wanted to do was cry and be comforted. Desperately fighting back tears, she cast about in her thoughts, trying to find something sufficiently distracting, anything to calm her down.

Seeing the distress on her face, though he misinterpreted it, Bruce got up and came around the desk to stand by her chair. A bit hesitantly he reached out and laid a hand on his sister's shoulder. He expected her to jerk away, or at least give him an angry glare and a sharp remark. To his surprise the simple gesture unleashed a flood of tears.

He crouched beside the chair, intending to comfort Anna with words, but was further shocked when she turned and buried her face in his shoulder. He had imagined a few scenarios of how things would go when Anna found out about the house, but this wasn't one of them.

Anna was frustrated with herself for giving in to her tears, but it had just happened. She had expected Bruce to be defensive and stubborn, not sincerely apologetic and worried about her. That concern was more than she could handle. She was just so tired of being angry. It seemed like she had been mad for an eternity, and she just couldn't keep it up any longer.

It took a few minutes, and several deep breaths, but she finally got her emotions back under control. "I hope I didn't ruin your suit," she said in a rather congested voice.

Bruce glanced down at his shoulder. "Nothing that a quick trip to the cleaners can't mend," he said gently. He was rewarded with a small smile, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

Bruce tactfully gave his sister some time to regain her composure. Then he cautiously inquired "Have you been out there yet?" He hoped that the question wouldn't upset Anna, but he needed to leave for his meeting with the investigators, and it crossed his mind that she might accept a ride out to the Manor from him as a beginning to a tenuous truce. A truce that had a very short life expectancy; he fully anticipated the resurrection of Anna's wrath once she saw the ruins of their home. He quickly explained what had prompted the question and waited, a bit nervously, for her answer.

She didn't respond right away. A ride out to the Manor was inevitable, and she wanted to go see Alfred too. However, the thought of going with Bruce was…confusing. On one hand, she really didn't want to make that journey alone, but it just seemed wrong to return to the scene of the crime as it were, with the criminal. What it boiled down to, she supposed, was that she wasn't at all sure how she felt about Bruce right now. As she considered her reply, she watched her brother, remembering the genuine concern that he had exhibited for her just a few moments ago, and seeing the small signs of nervousness he was displaying right now.

Anna rubbed her eyes tiredly. She didn't have the strength to maintain her fury right now. And that was, in and of itself, the answer to Bruce's invitation. If she wasn't going to stay mad at him, there was no reason not to accompany him out to the Manor.

"Alright," she said quietly. "I'll go with you."

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**A/N: So there you have it, the next installment. What did you think? Please tell me! Review it, please!**

**A thousand thanks to all of my reviewers from the last chapter!**


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